


The Lioness

by Lilia_ula



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Eventual Conversion, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fierce Rey, Full Consent, Heavy and Atmospheric, Horror Elements, Loss of Virginity, Many Delicious Bites, Other tags to be added, Ritual Sacrifice, Step Into My Dreamland, Strangely Melancholy, The Evil Has Arrived, Vampire Conversion, Vampire Kylo, World of the Mongolian Steppes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-07 16:43:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16412141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilia_ula/pseuds/Lilia_ula
Summary: Rey had long ago dismissed many of the more fanciful beliefs of her people, including that of the Ghost Moon. As far as she was concerned, the dead most definitely weren’t interested in rising from their graves to hunt the living on the eve of her birthday.There was one ghost, however, of whose presence she was certain, as evinced year after year on the eventide of autumn.It was said that he took the form of a man, but possessed the great wings of a bat. That he was enchanting to behold, with hair black as a starless sky and skin like rare alabaster, but that his mouth was a rictus of daggers stained with the blood of his victims.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bunilicious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunilicious/gifts).



> For Buni, with all my affection.
> 
> Working with the prompt of: Vampire Prince Kylo Ren turns his new bride into a vampire on their wedding night.  
> *Reylo, HEA, Consensual Smut, Delicious Filth
> 
> Your wish is my command. I hope you enjoy...

 

 

 

  
  
**↫** ***↬** **The Lioness** **↫** ***↬**

 

 

 

From the very first, it had been said of Rey that she possessed the heart of a lion.

 

The Oronar held the belief that children controlled the time of their birth, and little Rey had joined the world just after midnight on a new moon. But, not just any. Of the twelve moonless nights of the lunar year, she’d chosen the eve of the Ghost Moon, fearlessly coming forth when the dead walked in search of souls to haunt.

 

As the sun had waned that fateful night, her mother’s first birth pang was felt. The cold, dry steppes had been awash with bloody light, and the time of the spirits had commenced with the departing day. The people had retreated to their yurts, falling silent as shadows grew long and clotted into darkness.

 

The midwives had been beside themselves.

 

They’d done their best to lend comfort, quietly murmuring that perhaps the child would wait for the redemptive light of morning. But nature cared not for the superstitions of mortals, and her mother’s labor pains had only intensified. Midnight heard the first of Rey’s strong, lusty cries as she joined the land of the living. Her tiny voice had fractured the protective quiet that blanketed the village, directly violating the taboo of sound.

 

The village elders huddled in their darkened homes, strangled with anxiety as the newborn’s wails had spiraled up into the night. Their imperative grew with the conviction that the child’s cries would bring the spirits down on them all.

 

Motivated by fear, they’d hastily convened to discuss what must be done. The lenient were in favor of proclaiming the child bad luck while others took a more hardline approach, set on the immediate banishment of mother and child. No further discussion was had, however, for at that very moment, the sky lit up brighter than midday.

 

For the second time in so many hours, the inky darkness was fearlessly defied, first by sound and now with _light_. A brilliant comet hung suspended in the heavens, trailing a habit of fiery stars. It chased the shadows from the land, drawing a collective gasp from the village as the cover of night fled. The people had crept cautiously from their homes, emerging in awed shock to squint at the golden light that flooded the sky like a second sunset. They’d cried with joy, believing a divine force had sent them this blessing, delivering them on this most dreadful of nights from the haunt of spectral visitors.

 

The shaman had proclaimed that the comet had originated from the quadrant of Leo, a constellation associated with bravery and strength in overcoming adversity. Thus it was that Rey narrowly escaped calamity, instead hailed as the personification of the lion-comet, as both had arrived in tandem to fearlessly challenge the evil that walked.

 

↫*↬

 

The infant grew into a girl with golden skin and striking leonine eyes.

 

She was keen and quiet from the start, and very different from the other children. An old soul is what they called her, eschewing the toys and frivolities of childhood in favor of long hours afield with the village flock.

 

Her peers thought her odd, as unable to relate to her as she was to them. They whispered and laughed when she passed, happy to have such an obvious target for teasing. For her part, Rey paid them no heed, and their jeers affected her like an arrow pierces stone. The urge to fit in with society was lost on her, as was the need to forge friendships.

 

She had the heart of a lion and was disinterested in the petty games of children.

 

There were many things about Rey that set her apart. From a tender age, she was seen to possess unique bravery. When she was five, two of the men had responded to an uproar in the stables, drawn by the terrified screaming of their prized horses. They’d torn through the doors to find little Rey beside an amur pit viper with its head crushed in. A bloodied branding iron lay to the side of where the enormous serpent still coiled, lashing defiantly about the dirt in its death throes.

 

The men were stunned, looking from the deadly creature to the small girl calmly approaching the horses with hands outstretched, speaking soothingly to them with the prowess of an old hand. Word had spread quickly, garnering her the elder’s admiration and the grudging respect of the children. The snickering behind her back stopped, replaced by looks of doubtful awe. In the eyes of her tribe, she’d proven for the second time that her heart was bold, fearless, and most worthy of her birth sake.

 

As she continued to grow, the instance with the snake proved to be just one in a string of illustrations of her exceptional nature.

 

When she was seven, Rey quietly climbed the fence of the horse corral and slipped onto the back of a blue roan. The horse had taken to her, and she to it, and before long she was learning to ride, trouncing the societal constraints that regulated horsemanship to a man’s ability. At nine years of age, she surpassed the skill of all the village boys, racing barebacked on her blue like an arrow loosed over the dry golden plains.

 

The people of her village didn’t know what to make of this girl, this quiet tempest made flesh. They treated her with deference, and when she began taking solo trips to pasture, they refrained from challenging her. It wasn’t surprising. She’d always preferred solitude and had proven herself capable of handling trouble on many occasions. So it was with their blessing that she’d range many leagues in a single day, guarding the ever-moving flocks with a set of heelers on her tail. She was sharp-eyed and fearless, often returning with a jackal slung over the back of her roan. Her people loved her well, but for all of their admiration, she remained as approachable as the stars in the sky--ever awe-inspiring but cold and remote.

 

As the seasons turned, the child grew into a girl, slender and wild.

 

When she was fifteen, Rey was awoken in the dead of night by a weight on her body and a firm hand clamping over her mouth. It was the boldest of the village’s unwed men, come to carry her off for his bride as was their custom. The people sleeping nearby awoke to the sounds of struggle and howls of protest, and when an oil lamp was finally lit, Rey was found perched atop the man with a dirk pressed to his bleeding throat. She was breathing hard through bared teeth, her eyes aflame as she pressed her advantage. Her voice was low and trembled with barely-contained fury as she warned him from ever attempting to claim her again, on penalty of his life. He’d slunk from her yurt in shame, and that was the end of any such attempts to steer her toward domesticity.

 

Always set apart, she remained willfully isolated. She had the heart of a lion, and there was no man alive suited to tame her.

 

↫*↬

 

The seasons turned, and the headstrong girl blossomed into an achingly beautiful young woman.

 

She turned the heads of many, never returning any of the admiring stares cast her way. Rey remained unclaimed and continued to live alone, as was her preference. Having defied expected social norms her whole life, it fit with who she was and seemed a natural eventuality. It was also natural that she’d come to question the validness of her tribe’s superstitions.

 

She’d long since dismissed many of the more fanciful beliefs her people held as truth, including that of the Ghost Moon. As far as she was concerned, the ghosts of the dead most definitely weren’t interested in rising from their graves to hunt the living on the eve of her birthday. She quietly discarded the idea that little-winged sprites inhabited the desert blooms, and that water demons lurked amidst the still waters of mountain pools. Ever wise, she kept her opinions to herself and respected the superstitions that governed life within her tribe.

 

There was one ghost, however, who Rey knew was terribly real. One couldn't argue with the remains they occasionally found strewn carelessly upon the high plateau, or those who left for Altai every year, never to return. This ghost was bedrock, and his appeasement was the cornerstone of the Oronar’s continued peace.

 

Once a year, at sunrise on the morning of the fall equinox, the adults of the tribe would make their way in morbid silence to the shaman’s yurt. They’d come with haunted faces and sweat-decorated brows, uncertain if they’d be returning to their families or making a final ride to the peaks of Altai. The villagers would approach a cauldron and each draw a stone, praying fervently all the while that their shaking hands would open to reveal the saving grace of a simple gray pebble.   

 

This was the annual Tsus sacrifice, the only flimsy barrier between them and the wrath of the dreaded Shoniin Ezen.

 

Through the remittance of a single life, the safety and well-being of the whole tribe was ensured. And though the practice was morbid, grimmer still were the tales of his arrival and the ghastly days before they’d sealed the Tsus pact. The well-preserved histories of the Oronar told of his coming and of how he’d taken up residence in the mountains bordering their range, descending like a great bat in the night, ever-thirsty for the blood of their people.

 

It had marked the darkest time in spoken memory—men and women alike carried off into the night, their bloodless, desiccated corpses found dashed upon the plateau as if dropped from a great height. The creature was insatiable, coming for one, two and sometimes even three souls in a night. The slaughter had continued unabated until their ancestors had boldly confronted the monster, striking a bargain with it and halting the dreadful nocturnal raids.

 

The histories told that the pact proposed by their forefathers had amused the dark lord--that he’d been skeptical of the Oronar’s commitment to their end of the bargain. It was said he’d acquiesced mostly to see just how long they’d last. But on that dark night centuries ago, the Shoniin Ezen had agreed to the Tsus sacrifice, and it remained enshrined that faith be kept with their bloodthirsty, powerful neighbor to the east.

 

So it was that herders of the plain would offer up one of their own once a year, on the day that light and dark were perfectly equal, thus preserving the fragile peace between predator and prey. It was a macabre necessity, but the people accepted it without argument, for the dreadful existence of the dark lord was reconfirmed by the sacrificial escort each year as they returned from their grim errand.

 

↫*↬

 

The passing of Rey’s eighteenth birthday saw her fit to participate in the drawing of the Tsus stone.

 

She had, of course, grown up with tales of the Shoniin Ezen and was well aware of the sacrifice he demanded in return for peace. She had watched year after year as one of their own was escorted off to the Altai mountains, never to return. It disturbed and fascinated her, and she often wondered about this grim creature of legend, the only proof she was aware of that validated the existence of the supernatural.

 

They still found the remains of his victims on occasion. Their gruesome fate obvious in their shattered bodies, crushed by the great height of their fall. Their clothing identified them from distant neighboring tribes but never was the dead one of their own. Every grim discovery over the centuries drove home the importance of keeping faith with the beast, of continuing to honor their costly bargain. The incredible fortune they’d had in bargaining with him was spelled out in the bleached bones they still found scattered on the plateau.

 

They were forbidden to speak his name, for fear of arousing his all-seeing eye, but Rey had heard the whispered tales that returned with those who’d traversed the Pass of Sorrows and seen him in the flesh. It was said that he took the form of a man, but possessed the great wings of a bat. That he was enchanting to behold, with hair black as a starless sky and skin like rare alabaster, but that his mouth was a rictus of daggers stained with the blood of his victims.

 

The idea of a magical, omnipotent predator captivated her imagination.

 

She’d dreamt of him many times growing up, imagining him in a host of different lights. In her dreams, he could be frightening, gruesome or magnetic, but always he was a merciless predator. She’d wake from those dreams-- _nightmares_ , she’d remind herself--gasping for breath, her eyes wide as she stared up at the sloped roof of her darkened yurt, heart beating with an exhilaration that wasn’t quite fear. For all that he was a monster, or whatever he was, he was _different_ , and that was something she could relate to, a strange kindred connection.

The pale morning of the equinox dawned, and Rey did her sacred duty, joining the bleak procession with the tingle of foreboding at the corner of her mind. The light grew golden and rosy as they made their way to the shaman’s abode, the sun finally mounting itself high enough to cause the dew to steam from the ground in lazy spirits. She waited, watching as the men and women who entered the shaman’s yurt emerged with telling joy written across their faces, saved by the color of their stone.

 

Finally, her turn arrived, and she entered with an odd feeling in her heart, guileless as she met the shifty stares of her elders gathered about the great cauldron. Without pause, she reached deep into the kettle, her questing fingertips quickly finding that which she sought and closing about its smooth, rounded shape.

 

She felt an implacable pang when her own hand opened, the red Tsus stone resting in her palm for all to see.

 

A collective sigh of sorrow escaped the watchers, and all averted their eyes, unwilling or unable to meet her own clear gaze. They who had once hailed her as the living embodiment of bravery were now compelled to turn their cheek, unable to cope with the unfortunate draw of fate. Rey calmly looked from one village leader to the next, surprised that they wouldn’t or couldn’t own up to even looking at her. Was acknowledgment so much to ask for? She inhaled, releasing her breath in a slow stream. It slowly dawned that they wanted as little to do with the weight of her death sentence as possible. Disdain pricked at her, and she fought the bitterness of it off, repressing the urge that came unbidden to characterize them as cowardly souls.

 

She hadn’t cried then or in the time leading up to her departure, determined as she was to stay strong and not allow herself to feel like a victim of circumstance.

 

↫*↬

 

The time had gone quickly. They’d dressed her in the proper colors--the visceral red of sacrifice and the deep black of endless sleep. The crimson silk flowed like water over her skin, caressing her in secret with the smallest of moves. It felt strange to be draped in such finery, used to the rougher scratch of linen and wool as she was. The arm bracelets that fit about her biceps were made of gold and dripped with tiny hammered coins, as did the chained belt that hung low about her waist, accentuating the feminine flare of her hips. The finely-wrought golden discs tinkled together musically when she walked, a sound delicate and unfamiliar. She wore no other jewelry--her ears, throat, and decolletage left purposely bare.

 

When the sun had reached its zenith, Rey was led to her blue roan and helped into an ornamented saddle. The silk of her gown glowed a sanguine red in the sun, flowing down the flanks of her horse like ribbons of blood. A heavy black travel cloak was fastened about her shoulders to protect from the icy cold of the high peaks.

 

Her escort was to be three of the elder men, and they mounted up alongside her with faces of stone. Still, they didn’t look at her. She was as the walking dead, isolated by the doom foretold in the drawing of that small red stone. Rey gazed directly at each in turn, challenging their downcast faces, taking their measure. Her eyes flashed with brief disgust when she was pointedly ignored. There would be no show of support for her in this last of her life’s endeavors. That tiny seed of disdain took root, and this time, she didn't resist as it quietly sprouted within her breast. With a sharp word, she wheeled her horse about, not bothering to follow passively on what would be her last ride.

 

Their company moved at a swift clip across the barren expanse, arriving at the foot of the Altai range within the hour. They secured their horses to the rings mounted in an outcropping of stone and offered her the final meal of the damned in silence: red pomegranate perils, golden honey and the creamy, soft sheep’s milk cheese that was the finest delicacy of her people. She took a bit of each and accepted sips from a flagon of spiced wine to wash it all down.

 

Her escorts would only steal furtive glances at her, continuing to avert their gaze as if meeting her eyes would pass her death sentence onto them. This was beginning to fray the tough fabric of her constitution, and the disdain she’d allowed to grow now unfurled poisonous leaves within her. Something in their complete abandonment of her humanity chafed. She, who’d never had any use for sympathy or the trappings of societal interactions, was distinctly bothered by what she perceived as pure cowardice. It was all wrong, and in these final moments of her life, Rey felt it as the last gossamer attachments she’d had to her people severed, drifting away like dust.

 

When she indicated she was through with the fare, they’d packed up, and one of the men had wearily approached the immense bronze gong strung near the pass entrance. He aligned a skin-covered mallet and swung, striking it hard. A deep, sorrowful tone pealed forth, reverberating out over the golden steppes and announcing their arrival. The man allowed the echo to fade before striking it again, keeping up a slow cadence to the beat of ten.

 

Rey had stood with her back to them, facing out over the high plateau. The ornamental coins that adorned her arms danced in the wind, defying the gravity of the moment with their effervescent chiming. She listened to the mournful sound of the gong behind her, feeling its powerful vibrations in her bones. Her dark hair was gilded copper in the afternoon sun, and it whipped about her wildly as she wondered where _he_ was at this moment, listening to the same echoing summons.

 

Knowing this was the last time she’d walk the plateau, she lingered, feeling nostalgic for the sights and sounds that had defined her existence; the deep blue sky with its swiftly-moving clouds, the light-hearted twitter of the plains shrike and the warm sun that tempered the near-constant bite of the wind. She soaked it all in, saturating her mind, taking it all with her. Then, without a word, she steeled her spine and turned away, leading them toward the cairns that guarded the Pass of Sorrows. 

 

The men followed at a respectful distance, trailing behind her like three sorrowful shadows. Reaching the stone pillars, she looked up at the mountain before her, drawing a deep, cleansing breath, filling her lungs with the familiar scent of earth and dry grass.  _This was the worst part._  Her eyes narrowed.

 

She would meet him without fear.

 

The way began with gentle, meandering switchbacks carved deep into the side of the mountain. Rey kept her head high as she walked the steep, crumbling path, ignoring her company and the grim silence of their unsavory errand. They continued to climb and wide vistas of the plains began to open up, spreading below them like a vast golden quilt.

 

By mid-afternoon, the way grew steep, becoming ancient, worn stairs that barely clung to the side of the cliff. Winds were strong in the high places, and an occasional fierce gust would tear across the mountain's face, threatening to take the unprepared for an impromptu lesson in flight. Rey breathed in the clear air, invigorated by the charge of such a wild, unbound place. She relished it in the way of one condemned, rueing the fact that she'd never sought to visit the mountains before.

 

The shadows slowly lengthened as they continued their slow ascent. They’d achieved the realm where the air grew icy teeth, biting sharply at exposed skin and causing them to pull their cloaks tighter about their bodies. Carrion birds, always seen circling on high, now rode the thermals adjacent to them, dipping closer to get a better look at the humans that so rarely strayed into their kingdom. As the sun made a last stand, the crumbling gray slate at last revealed a small, flat cliff fronting a concealed gash in the mountain.

 

They gained the ledge, and Rey saw that they were hemmed in by the steep climb of rock on three sides and the yawning chasm where the sky began. She spied the towering split that was the entrance to  _his_  realm, surreptitiously hidden within a fold of rock. Finality sank like a heavy stone, its unwelcome weight settling in her chest. Instead of following her escorts, she strode to the edge of the precipice and looked out, feeling the spin of vertigo as leagues of air opened not a step away.

 

The small outcropping looked down on the whole of the land, its low, shimmering hills retreating off into the flatlands. The sun hovered on the horizon, and cool shadows stretched like mile-long bruises. Rey gazed out from the aerie, absorbing the sight of the place she’d spent her life from above, thinking that this was the lens through which birds-of-prey viewed the world.

 

Wild and free and removed from it all.

 

She sighed, feeling a measure of envy as the men’s furtive glances skirted her back, their anxiety mounting as the light diminished and the time to face the dark lord grew nigh. Swallowing the build of fear, she raised her chin bravely, saying a final, silent goodbye.

 

As she turned her back on the life she’d known, she reached up and unfastened her travel cloak, letting a sharp gust carry it off. She released it from its duty of guarding her body heat, protecting that necessity of all warm-blooded things—a service she’d no longer need. With it, she sent her emotions--all that rendered her weak and human--leaving her heart empty and hard and  _ready_. The cloak took flight in a violent flutter of black, sailing high into the clear air and away with the wind. Without a backward glance, she breezed through the waiting men, her lithe body weeping tides of crimson as she passed from light into shadow.

 

 

↫*↬

 

From high above, he watched, enrapt as the girl silently released her cloak to the capricious wind. His dark eyes missed nothing, marking the unusual dynamic below, watching how she swept through the men imperiously, like a queen leading her subjects. Only when they’d passed into the mountain did he train his gaze back on the sky, keen as he tracked the wild flight of her forsaken cloak.

 

↫*↬

 

Glossary of Terms

 

Shoniin Ezen = Night Lord

Tsus = Blood

Oronar = One of the smaller clans mentioned in the secret history of the Mongols

Yurt = Structured circular dwelling

Steppes = A vast, treeless tract of arid land, usually found in regions of extreme temperature range, often in Southeastern Europe or Asia

 


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey comes face-to-face with the fearsome creature known as the Shoniin Ezen. At the last, she holds true to her nature and sets into motion an unprecedented turn of events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to give a shout to the song that inspired A L L of this. The whole entire thing. The setting, characters, feels, all of it. PLEASE give it a listen--it's freakin amazeballs. So dark and atmospheric and moody. 
> 
> ["Like Starlight Into Day"](https://youtu.be/Srh25oMz7M8)
> 
> Credit given where it's due!
> 
> Jawdropping art courtesy of [Boomdafunk](http://boomdafunk.tumblr.com/), who never ceases to take my breath away with her Reylo art.

 

 

↫*↬

 

The towering crevasse opened immediately onto a vast open atrium. Lofty ceilings arched overhead, and when her eyes had adjusted, Rey saw that it appeared to be roughly ovaline in shape. Ethereal, flickering light emitted from the center of the cave, revealing a direct path through interspersed columns that spanned from ceiling to cave floor. Phantom shadows jumped and danced, lending an edge to the sense of forbidding that permeated the room. Nothing grew or lived in this place of death, neither root, lichen or mushroom.

All was cold stone and empty silence.

The path terminated at the centerpiece of the cavern--an ornate bench flanked by two pedestals. These were crowned with wide basins of stone from which came the strange light. Ghostly licks of pale blue flame danced from the twin sconces, sapping warmth like a fire in reverse. It was both disturbing and hauntingly beautiful: a scene from beyond the grave gifted them before their time.

She could feel the jittery terror of the men flanking her, see it in the hesitant way they moved forward, creeping as if the ground might give out at any moment. Rey took a deep, steadying breath, fighting the instinctive build of her tension. She needed desperately to reject it, not let it gain momentum. Ignoring the trembling men with her, she breathed steadily, her ironclad will spreading over her like armor, shielding her from the crippling vise of fear.

As they approached the bench that was the room’s focal point, she saw that its stone was carved with images of carnage and destruction. The eldest of her escort gestured to it, bowing a little as he indicated she was to sit. She shot the man an imperious stare before turning away dismissively, preferring to meet her doom on two feet--an active participant rather than an impassive victim. The men deferred, inclining their heads and moving aside. As one, they turned to face the looming vertical gash in the rock where he’d appear.

The Shoniin Ezen did not keep them waiting.

The sound of his coming was that of air rending, a sharp, pealing rush as their eyes attempted to track the furious, downward arc of blurred shadow. The unnatural sound was dreadfully eerie, and the three men of her escort slumped to the cave floor in terror. Rey’s heart skipped as her eyes caught up to the tall, masculine figure that had landed at the cave entrance, rising from a crouch to stand. She watched in frozen astonishment as great leathery wings folded gracefully at his back and vanished like smoke. The dark lord stood, gleaming and pale, an ominous statue at the entrance to his lair.

Rey’s pulse sped as she beheld the creature of darkest legend.

His guise was deceptively human, yet decidedly not. There was a startling beauty to his perfection, and Rey blinked several times as she grappled with the seductive reality of his presence. It was as the stories told. Hair lustrous and black as onyx in contrast to skin that gleamed like the sun-bleached bones he left in his wake. His lips were the perfect foil for the severity of his features, lush and inviting, and his eyes were dark and full of terrible knowledge. He stood a good foot taller than their tallest warrior, and his chest and torso were whittled as though carved by a master. He wore only pants, his magnificent upper body bare.

Every part of him was pleasing to the eye, as if nature had conspired to gift him yet another weapon--the ability to bewilder and captivate his prey.

For all of his impossible beauty, he was terrifying. A dark cloud of menace surrounded him, extending outward to swamp beating hearts with a sense of impending woe. His predatory interest made mortal skin crawl as he leveled the weight of his stare on each of the men in turn. They hunched low upon the ground, quivering in despair and unable to look directly at him. Watching their wretchedness out of her peripherals suffused her with a boost of much-needed strength. She straightened her spine, determined not to be cowed as they were.

Finally, his focus sharpened on her, and Rey felt heat suffuse her skin. Something dangled from his massive hand, and as he began to prowl toward her, she recognized the black wool of her abandoned cloak. Her eyes widened in surprise, startled by its reappearance. That he’d seen fit to retrieve it was baffling, and she wondered at it for the briefest moment, fascinated by the thought of those black wings spread wide as he hunted it through the air streams.

Her throat constricted as he closed in on her, reacting to what her mind insisted was dangerous. She continued to fight, as she always had, gritting her teeth in defiance and taking a deep, cleansing breath through her nostrils.

The eldest of their company finally found the strength to speak, looking up with eyes shiny with fear.

“Sh-Shhoniin Ezen, m-most powerful lord, the Oronar attend you as decreed on this day of b-balanced light and d-d-darkness.” He licked his lips, taking a labored breath before continuing. “We keep f-faith--with you and honor our pact with the tribute of a life--a-as ever we have--” The man’s voice cracked, and he bowed his head in misery. “Plea--please accept her blood in lieu of the lives of our pe-people--p-please uphold the Tsus agreement, o l-lord.”

She knew he’d heard the speech, but his face remained unmoved, intent as he glided slowly toward her. Finally, he paused a mere foot away, gazing intimately down at her, disregarding the pitiful men completely. Her lips parted as she beheld him up close, breath frozen in her chest. His eyes were dark and bottomless, and they drew her in with their evocative pull. To stare too long would be to lose oneself, and she blinked willfully, breaking the spell that had begun to ensnare her. His interest deepened as he took her measure, those dangerous eyes drifting lazily over her form.

He dropped her cloak at her feet, silent as he continued to study the girl.

She was striking: lovely and wild like the sharp-petaled blooms that climbed the high plateau. But what truly captivated him was her scent, or what it omitted. She smelled of sage and honey, and the sweet dust of the plains. But the sharp, delightful spike of mortal terror was conspicuously missing. Oh, he could see her pulse racing in reaction to his closeness, and he could detect some fear, but by-and-large, she was successfully battling his effect.

This puzzled him immensely, and he gently tipped her face up. Her gold-flecked green eyes were rational and clear, and she was definitely not drugged. His bottomless gaze roamed over her, now merely appreciative as he took in the delicate refinement of her jaw and cheekbones, lingering on the inviting curvature of her lips. Desire soon overwhelmed curiosity, and his nature won out. He reached for her with hands that engulfed her slight waist, drawing her inescapably into his arms for a final embrace.

His body felt like warm stone where he pressed her against it, and Rey felt the current of power under his skin. To be held by him was to be a bird, tender and fragile, trapped within the tightening coils of a serpent. She stared into the void of his eyes, wondering what it would feel like when death came, pondering the last irreversible mystery with an air of resignation.

Then, her instinctive tenacity kicked in, brows furrowing at the thought of passive acceptance. Her heart hardened as death closed in, and she felt it when she broke free of the nerves that had swamped her, sailing into a state of calm.

If he was her doom then so be it. This entrancing lord could take her life, but he’d not hear her pleas. There would be no crying or begging from her. If she were to die today, she’d meet her fate without sacrificing her dignity.

His arms tightened as he watched her green eyes flash, refracting light back at him as she lifted her head boldly.

He smiled down at her, his mirth grim and beauty most terrible to behold.

She had the heart of a lion, and she refused to be afraid as she looked upon him, dark-eyed and hungry for her blood.

Dusky red lips parted to reveal the instruments of her demise: long, slender fangs that gleamed pale in the dark cavern of his mouth.

His lips peeled back as he bent to drink her dry, but her hand shot out, small but forceful as she halted his descent to her throat.

Puzzlement furrowed his alabaster brow as she looped her hands about his neck and pulled herself deeper into his embrace. He froze in surprise--a predator momentarily baffled by the intentional approach of its prey. The fierceness in her leonine eyes captivated him, and then he saw it--she was determined to meet him on her own terms. He relaxed, becoming pliant in her fragile hold, curious to see what she’d do.

Rising on tiptoes, she took ahold of his head, insistent as she angled his nightmarish mouth down to meet hers.

He inhaled sharply as her lips brushed his. They were warm and soft, but the gesture hit him as hard as the vital feel of her--the strange unlikelihood of a mortal willingly, purposefully, tenderly touching him in this way.

She licked once at his lips, sensuous, like a cat, then he felt the insistent pressure of her tongue on the tip of his fang. Staring at her in open surprise, he assessed her, seeing naught in those green eyes but absolute lucidity. He found himself in a novel position-- holding his breath, anticipating the flinch that never came as she pierced herself.

A surprised groan escaped him as she continued to push upward, her eyes flashing defiantly as she embraced the pain. Her breath was a warm feather against his cheek as the needle of his canine slipped deeper into her muscle.

At last, he reacted, his expression softening.

Releasing his hold on her waist, he gripped her shoulders, gently pulling away to examine her in astonishment, trying to puzzle her out. His serpent-like gaze was astir where it regarded her, licks of flame dancing in the endless darkness of his enormous pupils. He licked the tip of his fang, tasting of the offering she’d so bravely made with a small, ecstatic shiver.

He could detect no fear as she stared unwaveringly back at him, boldly accepting, no, embracing her fate. From that first moment he’d watched her abandon her cloak, he’d sensed it. Everything about her was different, as if...she’d been born in the form of a human, but was something different entirely...something bold and fearless.

Unable to stay away, he cocked his head, descending with agonizing slowness to part her lips with his own. Softly, gently, he drew upon the tip of her tongue, suckling at it with the utmost care, his saliva taking all pain and turning it into something magical.

When his lips sealed over her throbbing tongue and sucked...she couldn’t contend with it. Her mind staggered, reeling as control slipped from her grasp.

Outwardly, it didn’t look like much. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and her whole body softened weakly in his arms. For Rey, however, it was a monumental concession. She who’d always prided herself on her ability to overcome emotions, who never closed her eyes in such a way now swooned like a blushing maid. A soft whimper escaped her throat as she gave in to the orgasmic sensation of her blood flowing into him.

He groaned in response, nursing gently at her injury. The taste of her blood spoke volumes.

_Untouched._

Shock rippled through him. How was it possible?

Carefully, he slowed, reining in his thirst for the time being. With a final lick to her pliant lips, he withdrew, staring at her with eyes wide and dark, examining her as if he’d never seen a woman before. Her green eyes were glassy now, head tilted back alluringly, drugged by the enchantment of his kiss.

Even so, she fought it.

He could see the way she narrowed her eyes, jaw clenching as she tried to regain herself. She gazed up at him in awed confusion, and he smiled in genuine delight, his thumb stroking over her delicate cheekbone.

She was an enigma of the rarest, most delightful kind.

Elation lit his heart, and he made his decision. Stooping in a smooth motion, he swept her knees out from under her, cradling her tight against his bare chest.

The three elders were transfixed where they stared in fascinated horror, unsure of the portent of this unprecedented occurrence. The dark lord continued holding the girl, examining her with a tenderness that made their blood go cold. Finally, he looked to them, and they watched the fires of his gaze bank into cold ashes, though his voice was smooth and sensuous as winter silk.

“Go forth and know that I am pleased as never before. You have brought me that rarest of treasures, and I will thank you for it with a hundred years peace. Trouble me not, and you shall receive the same courtesy. Now go, and leave us,” he commanded, watching as the men scrambled hastily to do his bidding, the relief plain on their faces.

“At once, Shoniin Ezen. We humbly thank you. Your unheard-of generosity is gratefully accepted,” the eldest stammered, backing from the cave with palpable relief, followed closely by his comrades.

When the sounds of their footsteps had dwindled, he turned his attention back to the girl in his arms, relishing the softness of her body, the warmth of her blood singing its siren song to him.

“You are exquisite,” he murmured, “so strong in the face of peril.”

He dipped his head, kissing her meditatively, taking his time acquainting himself with her mouth.

Rey sighed against his lips, tipping her head back to fall into the kiss he gave, feeling like a stranger had taken over her body. The puncture in the tip of her tongue had stopped its painful ache the very second he’d licked it, but more, his stare, his embrace, this kiss robbed her. Yet, she wanted more.

As he pulled away, she caught herself wanting his mouth to return to hers. His presence was ominous, and it towered over her in a frozen wave of threatening masculine energy. The incredible thing was...she languished in its hazard, drawn to it, waiting for it to crash down on her with odd anticipation. She blinked slowly, wanting to drown in him.

He returned her interest a thousandfold, his dark eyes lit with captivating emotion.

“Honor me with the sound of your name, lovely one.” The rasp of his voice slid through her mind, leaving pleasure in its wake.

“I am called Rey,” she replied shakily, thinking of nothing but giving him what he sought, equally taken with this heavenly, dangerous creature so entranced with her.

“Rey,” he purred, his eyes lighting from within.

The sound of her name stirred the still waters of possessiveness.

His gaze laid her bare, as if he assimilated the whole of her life in a few charged moments. She studied him in turn, feeling the thrum of magic beneath his skin, reveling in the unfamiliarity of a dominating presence. A small shiver rippled through her.

He reacted to it, his chest rising as he took a deep breath, strong hands sliding over her crimson-clad body in a sensuous whisper as he set her back on her feet. The air between them snapped with energy.

“There will be no death for you,” he intoned, “Only immortality will suffice for one so exceptional. The eons have been quiet and unmoving, and for too long have I been alone.”

He touched her cheek, running a finger over its smooth plane.

“And you,” he said, considering her with a keen eye, “for too long you’ve been a lion trapped amongst sheep. You’ve endured your life in isolation as well...your time of misplacement is over,” he stated.

“You belong with me.”

A small tremor ran through her hand where he held it within his own as she processed his words. A stone plugged her throat, and it grew as he sank before her into a kneel. He stared up with eyes that pinned her very soul, conveying a depth of emotion that was simply inhuman.

“Rey. Let the past die...leave behind the weak and artless souls who’ve never recognized you for what you really are. Cast off the shackles of solitude and be my bride and equal. Join me...rule the night as my love, my queen...my _lioness_.”

She stared in shock, searching his upturned face as she willed the stone in her throat to dissolve.

It felt like a dream looking down at the unlikely vision before her--the dark lord kneeling at her feet, serene and angelic unto pain as he gazed up at her, impossible to resist.

A dream as her delicate hand reached out slowly, so slow to touch him…

Dreaming, surely, as she bowed at the waist, bending to kiss his fearsome mouth.

And in her dream, she whispered an answer against his lush lips.

His smile was a dark fire lit within her breast, and she felt her heart--translucent and impervious as crystal--stagger in response as it flooded with unfamiliar emotion, wild and untamable.

Fate was a thread that bound them.

 

And it was red.

 

So red.

 

↫*↬

 

 


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey has agreed to abandon the trappings of humanity. The Shoniin Ezen spirits her to his lair where he consummates their union. In high vampiric fashion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh lord. I don't even know what to say about what follows...it's a toss-up between I'm sorry and you're welcome. XD  
> Fairly graphic E-rated business ahoy, mateys.

↫*↬

 

The dark lord straightened to loom over his betrothed, his eyes dancing with triumph.

Rey’s heart thudded within her breast, aware that she’d just signed her name in blood upon a parchment eternal and profound. Waves of magnetism poured off of him like waves of heat from a fire, and she basked in the exquisite warmth of his attention.

The heavy woolen travel cloak was in his hand again, and with slow, deliberate motions, he slipped it over her shoulders and fastened the clasp. She knew he wanted more of her, felt it in the way his fingers stroked over her collarbone. Saw it in the sharp flare of his nostrils as his gaze lingered on her throat, dark and full of secret knowledge. She fought her own desire to touch him again, remaining passive as he dipped and swept her legs out from under her, pulling her tightly against his bare chest.

“Hold tight, my love,” he commanded, the hint of a smile playing at his lips.

It was all too easy to obey, and she slid her arms securely around his neck.

She forgot to breathe as the majestic wings she’d seen earlier unfurled into existence, great sails that stretched high over them. They plunged toward the earth with tremendous force, lifting them into the air with practiced ease and wheeling about. Rey watched in wide-eyed amazement as they soared through the cave opening and into the open sky. The thermals caught and lifted them, boosting each tremendous sweep as he skirted the face of the mountain where it ascended to the heavens. His sable wings beat the air as they rose higher, the sound of them steady as the breathing of a great beast.

Rey’s mind blanked in abject awe as they crested Altai’s highest peak and the whole of the earth was suddenly revealed. His wings ceased their effort, becoming a canopy overhead as they rode the upwelling currents without effort. He kept her tucked tight against him, his arms a vise of stone around her knees and back. Time was meaningless as they soared through the icy air, but as the minutes stretched on, Rey slowly began to relax her death grip, adjusting to the cadence of flight.

She eased up as wonder overtook fear, staring at the marvels around them in stunned silence. The western horizon was a fading ribbon of gold that dissolved even as she watched, cloaked by the indigo veil of night. Stars blazed innumerably overhead, appearing closer than ever, and a sickle moon hung over the snow-capped peaks, level with her gaze. The onrush of frosty air caused her eyes to stream, and Rey shivered involuntarily. She hugged him harder, seeking the heat of his body, grateful in that instant for the travel cloak he’d retrieved and wrapped her in.

He bore them East, into the oncoming night. They sailed over glaciers, their massive flows appearing as pale-blue blankets crumpled between saw-toothed peaks as they traveled ever deeper into the impassible regions. Exhilaration surged within her, but it wasn’t enough to distract from her swiftly freezing limbs. Were it not for the creeping numbness taking over, she would have begged to continue their flight. Relief flooded her mind when they began to descend; she’d begun to doubt her ability to hold tight to anything with surety.

They banked, angling in a sharp downward arc toward a slab of exposed granite. For a moment, she thought he intended to dash them against the mountain's face, and her muscles knotted instinctively. As they closed in on it, wavering lights came into focus. She squinted, trying to discern fantasy from reality. A vertical dreamlike aerie emerged from the raw cliff, haunting and surreal in the darkness. Her lips parted in wonder as details came into range. The rock had been carved with inhuman skill; detailed pillars stood sentinel to arched stone doorways and ornate balustrades guarded rooms that swam with ghostly light.

His wings curled overhead, breaking their descent and flapping airily as they touched down upon a wide veranda. She shivered, blinking back tears as she stared in awe at the structures crawling up the rock, their surfaces glittering with delicate spines of frost. The massive stone doors before them swung open, and she was carried her over the threshold into a cavernous room of surpassing elegance. Her breath caught as she looked about with eyes wide. Pale, bluish-green light lit the place softly, emanating from the very surfaces of the palatial central room. A cascade of ever-widening stairs descended from an upper level, and Rey could see alcoves at the top lit with that same unearthly light.

A mammoth fireplace dominated the back wall, and it flared to life of its own accord, startling her with the combustive burst of wood igniting. It was to the fire he carried her, moving with measured strides around a massive rectangular table of tiger’s eye stone.

His dark eyes were keen as he scanned her pale face and the rigid clench of her jaw as she fought to suppress her shivering.

“Come, we must warm you,” he said, setting her gently down at the edge of the firelight. “You are half frozen from our voyage over the sea of ice.”

He hovered near, making sure her feet were under her. Rey stepped closer to the massive blaze, cupping her hands to capture the life-giving heat. Waves of warmth buffeted her, and the numb surface of her skin began to prickle as her nerves thawed and reawakened.

She turned her head, eyeing his bare chest. Her heart skipped along. “You don’t feel cold, do you?” she asked softly.

He stood aside, arms folded casually, observing her with veiled interest.

“No. I am impervious to temperature, although enough direct exposure to fire is...uncomfortable."

She shook her head slightly, taking in the way the firelight painted his form. “Why then have a fireplace so grand, or even one at all?”

“I enjoy the presence of fire. The dance of flames fascinates me, no two licks being the same. Its energy isn’t alive, and yet it lives…” he shrugged slightly, gliding back over to her. "Fire is a companion, and I appreciate the feel of heat, even if it isn’t a necessity.”

The smooth movement of his limbs was hypnotic, and it distantly occurred that he appeared to float. She didn't turn as he moved out of sight, freezing as time stopped. She stared unseeingly at the fire, perceiving his looming presence behind her. Her lids fluttered as she felt his hands slide into her hair, gathering it up and winding it into a thick twist. His massive hands were gentle as he pulled it gently over her shoulder, laying one side of her neck bare. Her heart sped in response, and the weight of her head suddenly felt too heavy. She let it fall lightly against the broad chest at her back. His hands alighted on her hips, remaining still before creeping up the silk that clothed her waist. His lips were soft where they ghosted along the curve of her throat. She took a deep breath, fighting to think, willing herself to speak the question on her mind.

“My people,” she began weakly, “they know you only as the Shoniin Ezen. Have you another name?”

She detected the faintest hint of surprise in his reply.

“I have been given so many over the eons, fierce one. What is the translation of your people’s name for me, ‘The Lord of Night’ or some such?” he asked, spinning her suddenly about to face him, causing her hands to shoot out in surprise and lock onto his forearms.

He smiled down at her, glittering and dark.

“I have been named Grim Reaper, Impaler, Eater of Breath, branded as much for years without count,” he said. “Never has a mortal done me the courtesy of inquiring of my name as you have.”

She searched his face, tasting the intoxicating draught of his beauty. “Perhaps it is because they feared for their lives."

His eyes glowed brighter before settling back to a steady smolder, quite pleased with her reply. Long pale fingers spread along her scalp to cradle the back of her head. She gazed up at him as weakness flooded her limbs.

“And you. Do you not fear for your own?”

His head dipped and he pressed his lips to her neck. The breath fled her parted lips as he sucked lightly at her skin. The liquid heat of his mouth raised chills down her side and she clung to his shoulders, suddenly in need of support.

His voice was a low, sensuous purr near her ear. “ _Kylo_ is my name, Fearless One. Ah, to hear your sweet lips speak it...it would please me.”

“Kylo,” she breathed, granting him his name, pausing to grapple with the unfamiliar feelings overtaking her again. Frustration arose and she pulled at him gently, her eyes troubled as they sought his. “Please, I must know…”

“Your kiss, your touch, it-- _affects_ me. I've never felt so strange; my strength abandons me and I--” she broke off, blinking in genuine puzzlement before continuing. “I am weakened--” she shook her head helplessly. “Weaker than I’ve ever been…” She finished, flustered as she stared up at him. "What is this thing happening to me?"

He smiled, charmed at her naivete. Even the slightest change to her constitution was disconcerting to her. _A queen through and through_.

His thumb traced the line of her jaw. “You’ve never known the touch of a man, and it is fitting, my love, for none were worthy of you. My touch awakens you, and the weakness you feel is your body responding to me, calling for more...”

Her heart did a strange thing in her chest at his words, lips parting softly. His hands, so huge where they dwarfed her waist, slid lower, fingers running along the string of coins, making them chime liltingly. He watched them, continuing his exploration of her hips and waist, caressing her through the thin silk. She felt her nipples twinge with a strange ache, felt them strain in their prison of red as need blossomed within her. Her breathing became erratic under his touch, her delicate hands closing over his shoulders as her head swam.

“Kylo,” she pleaded softly.

His eyes met hers, hypnotic and endless as his thumbs grazed over the swells of her breasts. He gauged her reaction as she gasped, unable to look away as his hands pulled her arm bracelets off, their coins dancing in the firelight. They fell to the floor with a cut-off jingle that she barely registered, and then he was slipping off the sleeves of her gown, freeing her shoulders.

She exhaled a shaky breath as he bent to taste her bared skin, leaving a wake of burning kisses along her clavicle. His hands were firm as they rubbed sensuously at her back, taking what liberties they would, dipping low to explore her bottom and roaming up her ribcage across her breasts. He patiently plied her body, murmuring low praises into her skin as he inventoried every trembling muscle.

It was trying her, awakening a need she'd never known. She moaned, a soft, plaintive sound unfamiliar to her own ears.

His voice was a weapon all its own, rumbling sensuously against her neck. Liquid heat enveloped her skin, his mouth sucking hungrily at her pulse. Her breathing labored with the swell of emotion as his hands continued to pillage her softest areas. Eyes closing, she submitted entirely, her throat arching invitingly against his lips. 

“Your composure is extraordinary,” he said quietly. “I’ve never seen its like...”

“It charms me, and yet...I _live_ to break it.”

Rey's eyelids fluttered as she felt the twin pricks of his fangs breech her skin. Her heart beat frantically, a frightened animal racing toward a cliff, gaining speed, launching itself over the edge to float for a split second...

They sank into her neck with a sudden, shocking plunge.

She cried out, unable to maintain silence in the face of such exquisite pleasure-pain.

Clinging to him, she whimpered softly, overrun with the build of sensation. His mouth was heavenly--alternating between sucking and lapping at her while his ever-restless hands continued to roam her body. Her sex throbbed, flooding with moisture. Distantly, she felt it well over her nether lips and drip down her thighs. Any mortification she would have felt was lost, crushed into meaninglessness by the feeling of his mouth suckling her, drawing the blood from her veins.

Her mind wept. The urge was overwhelming.

She wanted to nourish him, sustain him, give him _everything_. She assented with the thread of her fingers through his silken locks, caressing his head, cradling him there in utter bliss.

But this was only a first taste, and he slowed, decreasing the pressure of his draw, licking at her injured skin to slow the bleeding. He nuzzled her affectionately, hands continuing to rub her body possessively.

“You are _exquisite_ ,” he growled, somewhat unsteady as his lips moved up her jawline.

She moaned into his mouth as he kissed her forcefully, molding herself against him instinctively. The rich, coppery taste of her blood on his lips was raw and carnal, and she hummed against him, meeting his tongue with her own. He smiled wickedly against her lips, savoring the triumph of her participation, letting it sing through him like the sweetest windfall. His mouth went slack against hers, enjoying the decadent sensation of her kittenish licks, docile for the time being.

His fingers danced lightly over the tiny buttons at her back, deftly working his way down her spine. When he reached the final button low on her hips, the gown slipped from her body, catching about the chained golden belt at her hips.

Rey felt the air on her exposed skin and paused her worshipful kisses. His lips were lush, addictive. She hungered for more and could so easily settle into his lap and kiss him that way for hours and hours. She knew what it was to be wanted by men, but the way he looked at her was maddening, his regard burning her with a heat that rivaled that of the roaring blaze.

A recklessness possessed her, and she slipped from his embrace, backing away.

One step. Another. Then a third.

Staring him down with leonine eyes, she moved into the firelight.

He was a living statue, eyes smoldering as he watched her retreat.

She was slow and deliberate, slipping the dress from under its golden snare, letting it fall to pool about her feet in a gleaming pile of crimson.

A queen stood before him, her head tilted imperiously, eyes flashing as she invited his move.

Kylo felt his black heart ache.

She was a sight to make men weep, naked but for the delicate chained belt draped alluringly over her hips, adorning her curves with discs of flashing gold. The firelight rendered her artfully, painting the feminine swells of her form with warmth, caressing her dips and valleys with cool indigo shadows. Her long dark hair remained loosely twisted over one shoulder, partially obscuring a flawless breast, and he could see the dark curls at the junction of her thighs glistening and wet.

 _Oh, how she begged for a reckoning_.

His eyes narrowed, menacing as he stalked forward to claim her.

To her credit, she never wavered as he closed the distance. His hands captured the swells of her hips. Gripping them firmly, he continued to advance, forcing her back up against the fire-warmed stone table.

His stare was lurid with hunger.

“You play a dangerous game, my mortal beloved,” he whispered, fingers stroking lightly up her sides, trailing down the graceful line of her biceps.

He dipped his head to nip at her shoulder, gently lifting an arm at her side and peppering its length with kisses.

His other hand moved back to her hip, stroking down across her taut stomach. Her breathing sped a bit as he meandered lower to brush a finger lightly through the wet curls at her apex, lining up with her slit and hovering. His mouth had reached her wrist, and his lips parted, revealing those pearly white fangs.

He watched her from beneath his dark brows, craving her reactions.

Rey jolted as his index finger moved forward, giving a first, intimate stroke. As her lips parted in wonderment, he sank his fangs into her tender wrist, keeping it firmly pressed to his mouth. Her gasp was sharp, hips bucking onto his finger. He hummed a deep bass at her wrist, relishing the flood that came as he retracted his incisors.

She blinked furiously, brows furrowed as she experienced the duality of giving and receiving. His finger traced lazy circles over her throbbing peak while he sucked at her, savoring her trembling as he did her blood. He saw how her other hand gripped the edge of the table in a white-knuckled vise, valiantly fighting to stay upright, and pride lit through him. His eyes closed in delight as he drank of her, acquainting himself further with the alluring signature that was hers alone.

Rey felt dizzy, her breath streaming from her lips as she looked down at the sight of his lips working at her wrist. The piercing of her flesh had stung like earlier, but the very moment his warm mouth closed over the wound, something phenomenal happened. His kiss took the hurt and alchemized it into knee-buckling, blinding rapture.

Gratification poured over herl like warmed honey. The sight of him taking of her, knowing that she nourished him with her blood flooded her mind with a pervasive sense of fulfillment.

His finger played a vibrato between her legs, and her hips obeyed, pressing themselves up into his touch. She struggled to ride out the incredible sensations, desperately trying not to drown in them, beginning to fail as she saw stars.

His name tumbled from her unbidden, and his response was lightning quick.

He released her wrist and trained his hungry mouth on her breast, lips engulfing a dusky nipple and sucking hard. His fingers massaged at her clit, insistent on her unraveling. Caught she was, the pleasure magnifying into a towering thing where it rebounded between his suckling and strumming. She bit back a strangled cry as her body stiffened...and with a sharp buck, she curled over him, silent and breathless as she came.

Blindness took her and she convulsed against him, waves of euphoria undulating from where his fingers traced their magic.

She felt it when he released her breast, couldn’t see but felt the warmth of his mouth on her own. He devoured her moan with a low rumble, and she melted anew as his tongue swept inside, tangling with her own as she was reacquainted with the salty copper of her blood.

Her vision was slow to return and she clung to him as he eased her back onto the table.

He straightened and stood over where she lay, memorizing the vision before him; the pulse at her throat aflutter, skin now pale and ethereal, her hair a fan of tousled mahogany in the flickering light. The vivid green of her eyes was all but a slender circlet barely holding the dark at bay. That deep craving in his heart magnified, the ache to make her belong to him, and him alone. _Soon, soon, so soon._

His hands reached for her thighs, pulling them up around his hips. He held them captive as he bent over her, licking up a thin red rivulet of blood that had wound sinuously over her collarbone and through the valley of her breasts. Sliding higher, he rubbed his pectorals over her breasts, at last slotting his hardened shaft into the cleft of her sex. He relished the way her eyes widened, and his hips moved sinuously, offering her untold wonders.

Letting her feel him through the thin fabric, he hinted at the way their bodies fit.

Watching her carefully, he slipped from the pants that clothed him. The resplendent length of his erect cock was revealed to her glazed eyes, and she stared at him, her lips parting with want. She reached down and stroked it with curious fingers, reveling in the smooth, velvety skin, deceptively soft on a thing so hard. Cresting his plush head, she gathered a droplet of moisture on her index finger. Meeting his hot stare, she brought it to her lips and tasted him, guileless as a child. She watched his chest expand as she flipped their roles for the briefest of moments.

A muscle clenched in his jaw, and something hardened in the depths of his eyes. He prowled down her body to hover over her sex. The smallest whimper escaped her throat, and he heard the uneasiness in it.

“Hush now, my queen. Just _relax_ …”

He gave no time for uncertainty before her sensitive cunt was captured in the hot, undulating wetness of his mouth.

Her eyes flew wide, unseeing while her mind short-circuited.

She arched off the table, hands clawing at its smooth edge, a nail breaking off as she learned what it was to be _eaten_. He was bestial--deep, rumbling growls vibrating through her core as he sucked at her folds. Without thought or choice, his name slipped her lips in a voice that wasn’t her own.

The flat of his tongue stroked her slit fastidiously, bathing her in the way of a cat. Her world narrowed down to the feeling between her thighs, his mouth so soft and devious as he kissed her in that most sensitive place. She wound her hands through his thick, silky hair, holding on for the sake of sanity.

Just when she was coming to shaky terms with what was being done, Rey felt something dip into her cunt. Her brows furrowed as she attempted reconciliation, but it was too soon. She gasped as she experienced penetration. His finger slid inside as though it belonged there, slipping with ease on the sea of moisture he’d wrung from her body. Her head whipped up, zeroed eyes wide as she stared down at him, needing to see what he did.

The sight was _devastating_.

His face was intense where he watched her, flushed lips wet with her juices. His powerful forearm flexed rhythmically where it met her body, each movement driving the sensation she felt--hard, warm flesh stroking insistently in and out of her softness. Each advance aroused her further, alchemizing her nerves into living electricity.

As the storm grew, she tossed her head back, arching on the hard surface as she panted, feeling so exposed, so compromised. _So lost_.

He watched her with barely contained desire, devouring every last bit of her innocence with dark, hungry eyes. How he loved the way she reacted to him; her shock apparent in the way she blinked furiously, knuckles white, body shuddering as the carnal pleasures were learned in haste.

Kylo had spanned the eons and known the red delight of pillage and plunder, but he'd never known divinity as he did in this moment. Never had any mortal piqued his interest beyond lust for their blood. But then, never had he come across one so exquisite as she. _Rey_. She brought his body and mind to life, captivating him with her fearlessness. And now he’d have her by his side, her singular magnificence, forever his.

A red veil of madness took him, and he felt his fangs descend, eyes fading to soulless black as he watched her untried body writhe. He paused, bringing his hand up to his mouth, staring at her with half-lidded swagger, sucking obscenely at his glistening finger. She whimpered.

_This couldn’t last._

His attention returned to her body like lightning, adding a second finger to his offensive. Staring her down with narrowed eyes, he silently dared her to see what would happen should she show weakness. His free hand, previously occupied with pressing her pelvis down, now slid around a thigh, lifting it over his shoulder. His strokes didn’t skip a beat as his lips settled into the junction of her groin. She whimpered for him, sweet as he sucked at the taut skin, so close to where his fingers stroked in and out of her silken sheath.

He could hear the flow of her blood singing with each frantic beat of her heart, could smell it as the rich scent overpowered what little control remained him.

Exhaling against her skin, his hand tightened in a vise about her thigh, holding it steady.

Inhaling, his fangs sank deep into the junction of her groin.

Her keen was piercing: a thing of beauty, and he groaned, feeling the delicate muscles of her cunt seize in response to his bite. He didn’t linger, fangs sliding out to catch the surge of her blood, licking the pain from her injury with his anesthetic kiss.

As she teetered on the edge, he sucked hard and the plummeting ecstasy brought her.

With a sharp upward snap of her hips, she was cuming, the breath punched from her lungs as she melted away with a trailing whimper. Her cunt massaged his fingers in throbbing waves and he groaned in abject bliss, eyes falling closed as he continued to drain her, all the while working her spasming sheath.

Her convulsions dwindled, trailing off, and he was aware of her breathing growing shallow as he took more and more of her. His hands, once immovable as stone restraints, now softened as he released her. They wandered up over her hips, caressing her as he licked the punctures in her skin with parting kisses, slowing the flow.

His lips were flushed and so rosy, eyes alive as he straightened: an angel of darkness hovering above her.

Droplets of blood adorned the tiger's eye table, tiny rubies that caught the firelight, winking red amongst the undulating stripes of gold.

Tenderness crept in to temper his lust as it occurred that he’d brought her to climax twice, and yet...she’d only cried out loud when he’d pierced her with his fangs. Her relative stoicism in the face of everything she’d seen, felt and been subjected to in the short span of hours bordered on the divine. He stood back, pride blossoming all over again.

 _My queen_.  _So very strong_.

“Rey,” he murmured, stroking the soft skin of her thighs. “Your worthiness continues to awe me. It was the will of fate that placed the Tsus stone in your hand, my beloved. I am eternally grateful that you chose to be mine.”

His words resonated beautifully in her mind. She floated, feeling like she weighed naught but a tuft of down. Blinking the water from her eye, she reached up to caress his impossibly evocative face. Her touch was light and cool, sliding from him like rain to fall limply at her side.

Infinitely gentle, he slipped his arms under her, raising her up to perch woozily at the edge of the table. He took in her appearance. Eyes shimmering with tears of passion, lips going blue, skin bereft of its former golden glow.

“You’re ready,” he murmured, elation beginning its ascent within him, a cyclone winding up from the dusty plains of his solitary existence.

His eyes glowed as they had when she’d given him her name, her consent, her life.

The pearly spindles of his fangs emerged, mesmerizing as they bit the fleshy pad of his fingertip, blood spilling over and running dark against his pale skin. He held his torn finger up to her in offering, brushing soft lips over her ear.

“Drink,” he bid, his voice strained.

He couldn’t watch as her lips closed around the bloodied tip, felt his cock throb against her as she began to suck. With his face in the warm curtain of her hair, he shuddered against her as she pulled weakly at his slashed skin, his arm holding her waist tight. He groaned with pleasure as he felt the change in her energy begin, hearing the infinitesimal hum of her depleted cells filling out as they soaked up the dark elixir. Strengthening. Sparking with inhuman currents that lit between her synapses, mingling with her remaining blood in a visceral dance.

She began to suck harder at his finger as her body came alive. Her dulcet moan was everything, its sound echoing deep within his mind, staggering with its effect.

He needed her closer, needed them joined. 

Without warning, he bent at the knees, slotting his erect cock into the soaking-wet cradle of her sex. As he straightened, his bulbous tip breached her, parting slippery muscles insistently. Her gasp was sharp around his finger before her teeth clenched, using him as a bit. His eyes narrowed and he groaned in pleasure.

“Yesss, my love. Use me. Bite _down_ ,” he growled, continuing his smooth advance.

Rey was silent, eyes squeezed tight as she endured the splitting ache of her untried muscles stretching to accommodate his girth. He was merciless, stopping only when he could go no further. She quivered around the shaft of flesh lodged like a knife within her, unable to even whimper. Her nails were embedded into his back--ten crescent-shaped messengers relaying her shock and discomfort. Dimly, he realized that he, too, trembled; his body shivered in response to their harmonious fit, to the gravity of the night and the prospect of all to follow.

In the stillness of their joining, her teeth released and she slurred his name questioningly. He vented the build of his emotion with a deep groan at her throat, pulling out in a heavy slide, slotting back into her liquid heat.

That did it. Her tower of strength toppled, and she cried out, long and heartfelt.

A sweeter sound he’d never heard, and it plummeted through him, chills taking his smooth skin and turning it rough.

She turned her head into his, imploring him softly, and he responded. Capturing her lips in a storm of deep kisses, he distracted her from the achy throb in her loins, remaining still. Her hands grabbed at him, seeking more of his skin, pulling their chests together as he rocked his hips again. The pleasure-pain was blinding, alive within her as he began to pump into her, growling low in his throat like a predator feasting on a fresh kill.

The long slide of his cock dismantled her. Her demure whimpers were now full-throated cries that echoed rhythmically through the vast room, coinciding with each wet thrust. The granite-hard stoicism that defined her had shattered, undone by the brutal ecstasy lapping through her body. She couldn’t find it within herself to care; the tide that now swept her away owned her entirely.

His hands were everywhere--pressing into her muscles deliciously as they roamed the spread of her naked body. Her head tilted back, eyes closed to better immerse herself in the forbidden. With a final jolting thrust, he stilled. Her hazy eyes swept open, blinking up at him dazedly. The pillar between her legs was hot, so hot with the friction of his strokes, and she wanted to writhe on it absent of his provocative motions. His hands were on her face, gentle as he brushed a tear from her eye. Rey panted, retrieving her breath and some semblance of sanity as he pressed cloudlike kisses over her cheeks, her lips, her jawline.

He cradled her face, forcing her stare. His eyes were a maelstrom, and she could feel the primal urgency that animated him, thrumming like a current beneath his porcelain skin.

“I’m going to take your life,” he warned, his smoky voice devolving.

“ _I’m going to take it_.”

His flushed lips pressed into hers, dark energy snapping between their skin.

She wrapped her arms about his shoulders, embracing him, ardently trying to bring him deeper into her.

“Please,” she managed, her voice a cracked whisper, “take what I give...take all of me.”

Rey watched with her heart heavy in her throat as his flawless lips peeled back. A final flash of dazzling white caught her breath. Her eyes closed and she arched in offering, her head falling back for him--graceful in the face of death. She felt the heat of his mouth poised at her jugular, inhaled as the twin pricks were felt. As she exhaled, his fangs sank in, hitting the vein and staying locked against her skin. Her cry was exquisite and raw, rising from her like an ember lost to the night.

A shudder ran through her at the sharp pain of his bite, her sheath throbbing violently on his shaft.

Rey panted, caged his arms, impaled twice over.

She could feel those long sharp fangs embedded in her, and his first possessive thrust brought her to heel as pleasure constricted her cunt over and over. He felt it and groaned appreciatively at her throat, the rough sound launching her even farther over the edge, stars bursting as she struggled to remain conscious. She would have screamed had she a voice to speak, but pinned as she was, Rey could only sob quietly at the rapture of his claiming.

She clung to his broad shoulders, carving into his back as he began again the long, slick strokes that were better than any earthly delight she’d ever known. His fangs remained deep in her throat, not letting up as he pistoned, spitting her on his resplendent length.

He held her in place as his cock slid in and out, savoring the deliciousness of penetrating her above and below. Tasting her blood, he shivered at the irredeemable gluttony of it all.

Finally, he caved to the tune of her sweet voice calling him by name. With a low groan, he released, his fangs sliding from the sheath of her throat. He began to suck at the fount that pulsed with each rapid beat of her heart, so willing to be devoured. All of Rey’s thoughts were cocooned in red as pain-tinged pleasure blossomed into transcendent euphoria. She cried out, her voice an outlet for the tempest between her thighs, the wildfire racing through her veins.

His name peppered her wordless moans like a litany, voice hoarse from use and her staggering breaths.

He was locked at her throat, drawing at the dark current of her blood, draining her. Her life was his, and he consumed it greedily as he fucked her, taking everything as he’d promised he would. She felt light, her body moving rhythmically as she watched the birth of stars behind her closed lids, watched them unfurl into blinding glory and spin to brilliant deaths, lost in the dichotomy of blinding sensations.

 _Taking_. He was taking every bit of her, drawing it all even as she received him, pumping into her, giving, giving her all he had. The eroticism of it broke her again. Arching against him, she writhed on his cock with the last of her energy as her body melted down. She sobbed softly into the heated air, her pussy drawing hard at him, exacting revenge. He whimpered at her throat as he felt himself triggered, pausing his feast as his arms tightened in a crushing vise.

For a moment, he was still, savoring her unraveling...and he was bucking hard into her, led by the first long spurt of his cum. Broken groans rumbled from his chest as he fountained within her, pumping himself deeper into liquid heat. Her cunt drew at his throbbing length, pulling the hot ropes of his spend forth. The sensation of being milked was exquisite, and he was lost in the moment, unsure of who was taking and who was giving.

Still, he came, long after her body had reached its capacity to receive more. His seed spilled from her oversaturated sheath, displaced by each stroke of his cock. Pumping her lazily, he rutted in the exquisite, creamy mess he’d made, purring in the manner of a satiated tiger.

Her head rolled weakly as she tried to catch her breath in vain, soft puffs of breath too shallow to deliver what her body needed so desperately. He cradled her to him with strong arms, seating himself deep within her and stilling, gazing down at her pale face with dark, sizzling pleasure.

“This kiss will be your last, mortal girl,” he whispered, descending to press his warm, soft mouth against lips so blue.

She found the strength to open her eyelids, her mind and body spun. His dark stare was welcoming, so tender as he placed a kiss upon her brow as if in blessing, before turning her head aside to bare the weeping punctures at her throat once more.

Rey gasped, belated and soft as his fangs stabbed in. Again, she felt the rapture and her eyes slipped shut on the world, replaced by a gauzy sensation of intense pleasure. She didn’t feel the cold creeping up her extremities, all of her body’s warmth sucked into her core in a failing attempt to keep organs alive and her heart beating. She sighed, resting her cheek upon his dark head as he worked at her throat, at peace as the last of her vitality ebbed on a tide of red. All bodily feeling fled and conscious thought became a watery echo that faded away, releasing her from all awareness of the world.

 

↫*↬

 

Slipping sideways, she parted from her body, a sylph-like shadow that gazed upon a couple locked in a heated embrace. The maiden and the monster, their union consummated in a firelit scene of passion and blood. As she drifted higher above the entwined figures, she heard the monster speak in the voice of a lover, hushed and reverent.

_“Come, my love, my beautiful bride. The time is nigh.”_

She watched passively, floating over them as the monster tore open his wrist and brought the dark fount to the maiden’s shadowy lips. Blood dripped down her naked body, staining her beautiful face, so still and fair.

_“Drink,” he said, “I will elevate you...”_

Even higher, she saw how the monster’s blood, so primal and black, was but a medium strewn with stars. They twinkled and shone within it--a liquid canvas of the heavens. This living current poured over the maiden, flowing through her parted lips, resurrecting her with its energy. Drifting up near the ceiling, she frowned as something dripped over her tongue, it-- _it was_ \--

\-- _slick, sinuous, rich_. It flowed thick and luscious into the husk of her body, addictive even as it burned her translucent, hollowed-out form. It was-- _nectar on her tongue, the song of wine in her blood, a ray of sun on her frozen face_ \--she staggered at the flood of sensation, reeled into the body of the maiden below her with a _ssssssnap_ , and she was stumbling over herself, seeking more, clutching at the source and taking deep droughts of the viscous, life-giving ambrosia. It tumbled through her like wildfire, it was- _-the darkening storm on the horizon, the scent of spring flowers on the wind, the unbridled race of horses over the dusty plains--_ it was _\--the feral fire in his eyes, the wildness she recognized as her own--_

She gasped, the air burning in her lungs. It was _\--him._

His energy sparked along the pathways of her veins, tracing branches of lightning into her body. Still, she sucked at the heavenly fount, whimpering in animalistic bliss, swallowing great red mouthfuls of, _of_ \--her eyes flew open.

Wide, staring.

_Reborn. Belonging._

He waited, looking down at her tenderly.

So breathtaking, more beautiful than anything.

Her vision sharpened, glittering and dark and predatory.

 _Kylo_ , her mind sighed.

 

↫*↬

 

_And so it was that the girl with the heart of a lion won the love of the fearsome Shoniin Ezen._

_The tales told of how bravely she had gone to her death, offering her life and instead claiming the monster’s black heart. A century of peace came to pass, as had been decreed that fateful autumn day. None who had lived in the time of Rey’s sacrifice remained, and generations had since been born and gone to their graves. As the decades of stretched on, the Oronar grew complacent, their comfort growing as years passed with nary a sun-bleached corpse to tell of the monster’s existence. In their hubris, they chose to forgo the old warnings as fable, embracing the bright span of time that had passed without the looming burden of the Tsus Sacrifice._

_The autumn equinox of the one-hundredth year came and went without event, and all was well…_

_But as the sun set upon the steppes three days hence, a mournful sound was heard by the villagers, unnatural and sharp. The sound of air rending as huge wings tore it asunder. They came from the East and arrived with the dying light--the Shoniin and his queen. The Oronar trembled and wept to behold her--their own ilk so turned against them--her dire beauty made all the more terrible by the murderous curve of her fangs. She was fair as the dawn and grievous as death, all fiery eyes and heartless grace as she fell upon young and old alike._

_That night, a new page was written in the histories, its script penned in blood and anguish, the warning clear as the heaps of corpses that littered the steppes come morning._

_The Shoniin Ezen lived, and his vengeance was terrible._

_More fearsome yet was his queen, Rey of the Oronar._

_The Lioness._

 

↫*↬

 

 

** Glossary of Mongolian Terms **

Shoniin Ezen = Night Lord

Tsus = Blood

Oronar = One of the smaller clans mentioned in the secret history of the Mongols

Yurt = Structured circular dwelling

Steppes = A vast, treeless tract of arid land, usually found in regions of extreme temperature range, often in Southeastern Europe or Asia

Altai = The Altai mountains are situated in Russia, Mongolia, Kazakhstan and a small part in China.


End file.
